


Ace of Wands, Reversed

by twittytwonkers



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Alternate Universe - College/University, Cis Female Katya Zamolodchikova, Cis Female Trixie Mattel, F/F, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twittytwonkers/pseuds/twittytwonkers
Summary: Trixie Mattel, soon-to-be graduate with a BFA in Musical Theater, is deeply in love with her best friend, Katya Zamolochikova, fellow burlesque dancer and PhD candidate in Russian Literature and Culture. Trixie fully intends to confess her feelings, but life circumstances continue getting in the way. She must decide whether or not to move states in order to start her career as a singer. Will their love come to fruition before then?
Relationships: Trixie Mattel/Katya Zamolodchikova
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	1. Desperate Housewives

Today was the day. She was going to do it. Today was the day Trixie Mattel was going to tell Katya Zamolodchokova, her best friend in the entire world, that she was in love with her.

She was about to graduate with her BFA in Musical Theater, and Katya was only a couple of credits away from obtaining her PhD in Russian Literature and Culture. The timing seemed right — Trixie’s graduation was only one week away, and all of her finals were over (forever!), so it seemed that her options were wide open. She could stay in the city, working at the burlesque bar (the same one at which Katya worked, where they had met three years ago) while looking for work as a Real Professional Singer; or she could pack her bags and move with Kim Chi — her roommate and childhood best friend — back to Chicago. She and Kim had already discussed the general details: Kim had solid connections in the makeup artist industry there she could rely on for work, and Trixie would dip into her seemingly endless well of inborn ambition, auditioning tirelessly for roles on the stage until she struck fame, wealth, and recognition (naturally).

Yes, the timing was absolutely perfect. Trixie didn’t doubt herself often, and — staying true to her trademark high self confidence — believed wholeheartedly in her plan. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, admiring another job well done. Her platinum blonde hair poured down her back in dramatic waves, framing her features delicately. Her winged eyeliner was perfection (as usual), and she had dusted her cheeks a rosy pink, complementing her hot pink lipstick. She’d completed the look with some not-so-subtle contouring and highlighter — although her nose contour was slightly crooked, she noted, slightly annoyed. Lastly, she’d painted her eyeshadow a bold blue, matching the blue dress she’d decided to wear (the one she specifically remembered Katya complimenting before). Stepping into her white kitten heels — the type Katya hated, but hey, no one could expect Trixie to change completely overnight — she felt absolutely adorable. And also absolutely terrified.

\-----------------

The doorbell rang suddenly, and she jumped, startled.

“Coming!” she called out. She made her way towards the front door, glad that she had asked Kim to be out of the apartment for the evening. Swinging the door open, her breath caught in her throat — as it often did when she saw her best friend. Her lips were painted her signature deep shade of red.

“Hi, Barbie!”

“Hey, hooker.”

“You ready to go?” Katya asked, extending her hand. Her nails were well trimmed, blood red polish gleaming under the glaring hallway lights.

“Actually…” Trixie grabbed Katya’s hand, ignoring the butterflies that stormed her stomach. “I have a surprise.” She pulled her into the apartment, Katya’s eyes wide.

“Trixie, what the he—“

“Ta-da! Surprise, bitch!”

When Katya simply stared at the scene before her without responding, Trixie continued, “I cooked you dinner!”

A lasagna, unmelted mozzarella cheese sprinkled sadly atop the charcoal surface. Marinara sauce was splattered carelessly on the stovetop, counters, and walls unfortunate enough to be too close to the disaster scene.

Katya started cackling.

Trixie turned towards her, stomping her foot. “Oh my God, shut up! I did this for you!” she cried, grabbing Katya’s forearm and shaking her.

“Mama, I’m sorry, but this is cracked,” Katya finally choked out.

Trixie shrieked with laughter. “Shut up!”

No matter how angry she tried to stay, though, she couldn’t help the crooked, amused smile that snuck its way onto her face.

Finally, Katya turned to her. “Trixie, if this was your big surprise for me tonight — that you actually cooked for me, a goddamn casserole? — then I will eat it with absolutely no complaints. And can I just say that I am entirely grateful towards you for setting aside the time to cook me an entire ass meal? You rotted bitch.”

Trixie was still pouting, but noticeably less miffed. “It’s not a casserole. It’s lasagna.”

Katya sobered her features, turning to Trixie and gathering both of her hands in her own. Trixie stiffened, looking slightly down into Katya’s icy blue-gray eyes.

“I would be honored to eat your burnt lasagna from hell, Trixie Mattel.”

Trixie snatched her hands away as Katya resumed her laughter. “Oh, fuck it. Let’s just order pizza.”

“Hey, whatever you want. As long as my housewife is happy, I’m happy,” Katya said, winking. Trixie felt a blush creeping up from her chest to her cheeks.

“I’m no housewife, but for the right girl, who knows,” she said, trying to remain nonchalant. Katya cocked an eyebrow, but offered no verbal rebuttal.

“Wanna pick back up on Desperate Housewives where we were?” Katya asked.

“Knock yourself out,” Trixie said, shrugging. “The remote should be on the couch somewhere.” Katya bounded into the living room, and Trixie couldn’t help the smile Katya’s innate childishness elicited. She picked up her cellphone, ignoring some text messages from Kim Chi, instead opting for the number of she and Katya’s favorite pizza place.

\-----------------

Trixie was devouring her fourth piece of pizza while Katya nibbled on her second, as the desperate housewives of Wisteria Lane fumbled and manipulated their ways through the drama of the episode. Katya was gasping and yelling at the TV, and twenty-five minutes into the episode they’d fallen into their usual TV watching routine where they talked over the characters with their own made-up dialogue. Before long they were both gasping for breath through their laughter, clutching each other to stay upright.

Okay, so the evening wasn't exactly going according to Trixie’s original plan. She had orchestrated it so as to prepare Katya a delicious home cooked meal, which they would enjoy at the dining room table with the fancy candles, gazing into one another’s eyes. They wouldn’t talk about work at the burlesque bar, or school, or anything that could potentially bring down the mood. Katya would be super impressed with Trixie’s sudden, newfound talent for cooking, and as their eyes met over her perfectly cooked lasagna, Trixie would reveal her true feelings: “Surprise! I’m in love with you. I know we’ve been best friends for three years now and I hope it’s not shitty to spring this on you but I definitely have feelings for you and I don’t know if I’m totally crazy but I really feel like you might like me too, please date me,” she would say, to which Katya would respond by pulling her in for a big sweeping kiss and then they would get married and adopt a dog and some succulents and live happily ever after.

At least, that’s the scene Trixie had been giddily playing over and over in her head while getting ready for the evening; however, Trixie was nothing if not adaptable. She prided herself on her fluidity in new and challenging situations, and was not about to be put out by her plans completely and utterly flopping. The night was still young, and if there was one thing Trixie refused to do, it was admitting defeat.

The episode of Desperate Housewives was drawing to a close, the plucky, mischievous ending theme song filling the space of the living room. Trixie stretched, a yawn escaping her as she laid her head down in Katya’s lap. All of this plotting was exhausting her. Hell, she would never have the mental stamina to make it on Wisteria Lane — Trixie was a straightforward person by nature. She should just say how she was feeling, right now.

Trixie closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath into her lungs — and just at that moment, Katya instinctively rested her hand on Trixie’s head, stroking her hair so gingerly that Trixie’s breath caught in her throat, language dissipating from her mind as an all encompassing sense of contentment flooded through her body. It spread, unbidden, from the depths of her chest to the tips of her fingers and toes.

\-----------------

“I AM ENTERING THE APARTMENT,” boomed a voice from outside the front door, causing Trixie’s eyes to snap open, the sense of contentment quickly replaced by alarm as she bolted up from Katya’s lap. Katya’s hand recoiled, and she stared down at her own intertwined fingers with an anxious intensity that briefly puzzled Trixie. Kim swept into the apartment, her hand covering her eyes.

“I AM INSIDE THE APARTMENT,” she announced.

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the update,” she said dryly.

With some hesitance, Kim Chi lowered her hand from her eyes, wiping the back of her hand against her completely dry forehead with an exaggerated, “Phew!”

“What did you think would be going on in here? You’re such a freak,” said Trixie.

Kim cocked an eyebrow at them, saying nothing. Katya seemed to have regained her regular composure, beaming a 100-watt smile at Trixie’s roommate.  
“Hi, Kim! How was your night?”

“Hey Katya! It was fine — I was texting you Trix, did you not get my messages?”

Confused, Trixie dug her phone out from in between the couch cushions, remembering how she’d ignored Kim’s first text in favor of ordering pizza. She was bombarded by several messages, starting from, “Hey dude, I’m actually gonna be coming home sooner than planned, so sorry !! Will explain details later, but let’s just say it has something to do with Naomi being a high-ass mess at this bar” and ranging to “DUDE I AM LITERALLY 5 MINUTES AWAY, just put Naomi to bed and have no more excuses to be out for the night, see u in 5 !!!!”

“Oh shit, sorry dude, I totally didn’t see any of these.”

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Kim said, eyeing the two of them cozied up on the couch. Katya bounced up from her seat immediately.

“Okay, well I’d better be going. Great to see you, Kim!” Katya made her way towards the door, hustling out so quickly Trixie could barely mutter a, “See you,” before the door closed behind her. Kim and Trixie stared each other down.

“Really, bitch? Did you have to come in like that?”

“Come in like what? I was just trying to prepare myself for whatever you guys might be doing in here.”

“You totally scared her away.”

“Sorry I’m not privy to your lesbian courting rituals!” she cried. “I didn’t mean to cock-block, I genuinely didn’t know what to expect,” Kim added seriously.

“Yeah, I know,” Trixie said quietly, almost as if to herself. “Neither did I.”


	2. Burlesque Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katya finds herself caught in a precarious situation when Trixie surprises her at the burlesque club.

Behind stage in the dressing room, Katya touched up her blood red lipstick. She had just finished performing all of her sets; she felt tired, filmy, and ready to grab a shower before knocking out for the night. God, she was craving a cigarette.

It had taken several years to get this far, but now she was literally weeks away from gaining her PhD. Years of scraping by with insanely tight budgets, both financially and socially — but her hard work was certainly paying off. At 29 years old, she was one of the club’s most senior, valued dancers, absolutely guaranteed to make bank whenever she came into work. (Of course, she loved performing, but the money was nothing to sneeze at, either). She had created a unique persona as a dancer, mixing her expert knowledge of Russian cultural phenomena and pop music with American style burlesque. Her sets ranged to everything from dramatic renditions referencing serious Russian historical events to comedic performances set to obscure 1980’s Russian pop. She had a decently sized following of loyal patrons who almost always showed up to see her exclusively, drawing a sizable amount of money to the club. She generally had her pick of when she got to perform, and relative freedom to do as she pleased at work. Only recently had she met someone at work who threw her carefully crafted system out the window.

Although Trixie was not scheduled to perform tonight, Katya couldn’t stop her thoughts from being flooded with her. She absolutely hated herself for it — they were supposed to be best friends, nothing more. Who would she be to suddenly confess romantic feelings, potentially derailing Trixie’s post-graduation plans? Their seven year age gap certainly didn’t help these insecurities.

She honestly felt so stupid about it all — here she was, 29 years old, while the girl she was pining after was only 22. Trixie had her entire future before her, while Katya was already an almost-30 recovering alcoholic; she could never match the inherent optimism Trixie carried around so effortlessly. Anxiety sat staunchly inside her chest like a large, hot stone. She began to wonder if it wouldn’t be more beneficial for Trixie if she simply disappeared from her life altogether, and realized at the back of her mind that she was spiraling, as she sometimes did when obsessing over their relationship. She shut her eyes, forcing herself to breathe deeply, regularly.

“Thinking about me?”

Startled out of her reverie, Katya’s eyes snapped open. Her gaze was met by that of the woman standing behind her.

“When am I not, baby doll?” Katya quipped, smiling weakly. Katya had known Violet for as long as she’d known Trixie, both Violet and Trixie having started at the burlesque club at around the same time. Violet crossed the short distance between them. She was decked out in one of her signature dominatrix costumes, all black leather, thigh-high stiletto boots, and waist cinched to a seemingly-dangerous 16 inches.

“Shut up, you whore,” Violet said.

Her smile strengthened as she looked up at her friend. Katya rolled her stiff shoulders. They stepped outside for Katya’s smoke break.

\-----------------  
“What’s wrong? For real,” Violet asked, turning down Katya’s offer of a cigarette as Katya lit her second.

“Oh, you know, just thinking about my menial existence in this great big universe.”

Violet cocked an inquisitive eyebrow, taking a swig from her cocktail. “Does this happen to do with a certain blonde colleague of ours?” she asked.

Katya drew a long drag from her cigarette. “God damn, Violet, does everything have to be about Trixie for you? What are you, obsessed?”

Violet smiled a brief, crooked smile.

Katya gazed down at her knees, her facade beginning to crack. “Why does it matter, anyway? She’s about to graduate, move far away, and then none of this will be of any consequence.”

Violet watched her intently, finishing her drink and setting it onto the wooden railing beside her. “Is that really what you want?”

Katya didn’t have an answer for her. Sighing, Violet scooted closer to her, until Katya could feel the heat emanating from her thigh against her own. It reminded her of those first couple of months they’d known each other, when they used to hook up occasionally. Katya had eventually drawn things to a close as she got closer to Trixie — her heart just wasn’t in her hookups with Violet, anymore. That door had never felt truly closed, though, and with Violet’s eyes trained on her beneath thick lashes, this was beginning to feel more apparent than ever.

“I don’t know,” Katya said finally. “Isn’t it better this way?”

Violet looked at her. “What, you never telling her how stupid horny you are for her? Sounds dumb to me, but whatever.”

Katya cackled. “You are a rotten gila monster, you fuckin —“

Suddenly Violet’s lips were on hers, and her brain short circuited.

“Oh shit, sorry!” came a voice from behind them, and Katya’s spine instantly stiffened. She pulled aware from Violet just in time to glimpse blonde curls disappearing inside.

“Violet, what the fuck?” Katya stood up.

“Oh shit — I didn’t mean —“

Katya looked down at her friend for a moment — not with anger, but with a mixture of sympathy and anxiety — before finally slipping inside.

\-----------------  
“Trixie?” Katya called into the hallway. What was she doing here on a night she wasn’t working? Of course, it wasn’t unheard of for dancers to come in on nights they weren’t scheduled just to socialize, but dear god was Katya caught off guard. Trixie typically would have texted her before just showing up. She burst into the dressing room. Trixie was sitting directly in Katya’s designated spot, staring into the mirror in a way that Katya found somehow unnerving.

“Trixie, what’re you doing here? I thought you were off tonight.”

Trixie continued to stare at her reflection with such intensity that Katya began to shift from foot to foot.

“Trix…?” Katya approached her, hesitantly lying a hand on her shoulder. Trixie seemed to return to reality upon the physical contact, finally meeting Katya’s eyes in the mirror.

“Oh, hey! Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude earlier,” said Trixie. Katya was dumbfounded.

“Intrude?”

Trixie didn’t respond.

“Violet was just trying to cheer me up,” Katya said finally. Trixie swiveled in her chair, facing her.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you needed so much cheering up?” Trixie’s tone had turned icy.

Katya frowned at her best friend, brows furrowed.

Trixie stood up from her seat abruptly, moving briskly towards the door.

“Trixie, why are you being so weird?”

Trixie turned on her heel.

“Why don’t you ask Vilolet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!


End file.
